The existence of an afterlife has been debated for centuries, and lack of tangible proof has given rise to faith that after leaving mortality behind, we go to a better place.
That’s the focus of “Going to a Place where you Already Are,” commissioned from playwright Bekah Brunstetter by South Coast Repertory.
The play’s world premiere on the Julianne Argyros Stage is an auspicious one, what with artistic director Marc Masterson at the helm as director and SCR stalwarts Linda Gehringer, Hal Landon Jr. and Rebecca Mozo as its stars.
The real star, though, is Brunstetter’s script, its lightly humorous tone and aura belied by profound spiritual and philosophical underpinnings.
As “Going” gets going, elderly couple Joe (Landon) and second wife Roberta (Gehringer) debate the afterlife at the funeral of a co-worker of Joe’s whom he barely knew.
Soon after, we see Joe’s granddaughter Ellie (Mozo) in her first sexual encounter with Jonas (Christopher Thornton), her purely logical outlook and rational behavior mirroring Joe’s.
During a medical procedure, Roberta has a near-death experience. She and Joe had always viewed death scientifically and rationally, but her brief presence in heaven and meeting her guardian angel (Stephen Ellis) trigger new thoughts and feelings while creating a crisis of faith.
The play’s primary theme is heaven and the afterlife and all they entail, but almost tantamount are issues surrounding the grave health woes triggered by smoking.
Nearly as prominent is food. Not just nourishment, it’s a source of comfort – especially for Roberta and Ellie – and emphasized such that it’s practically a sixth character. “Going” equates food with humanity – hence Roberta’s vision of heaven as an inviting, ’50s-style diner.
Lest you’re warded off by what you presume is a heavy or depressing play, Brunstetter’s forte is genuinely witty humor, and her detailed, razor-sharp dialogue is realistic and pointedly droll.
“Going to a Place” plays out like a delicate yet exquisitely jarring trance state, and Masterson and his cast consistently realize a dreamlike sensibility throughout. Landon and Gehringer show consummate skill in effecting dry humor, notably in the opening scenes.
Their powerhouse work is notched as the script begins raising the stakes, with Gehringer nimbly reflecting Roberta’s very real anguish – her struggle to understand what has happened to her body, mind and consciousness, and the changes they’ve wrought to her belief system.
Gehringer’s towering performance not only anchors the script and Masterson’s powerful staging; it elevates her character such that Joe, Ellie and Jonas are almost of secondary concern to us – not a knock against Landon, Mozo or Thornton, but a plaudit of Gehringer.
A big-time skeptic, Landon’s gently curmudgeonly Joe is the kind of earthy yet brainy guy who’s emotional IQ is around zero. Landon delivers Joe’s adamant adherence to the rational world, but also his distress that his wife of 30 years is slipping away and the perception he’s being left behind.
Ellie is likely Brunstetter’s proxy for herself, and Mozo deftly defines her pragmatism, unease with touchy-feely emotions and suspicion of anything beyond the here and now.
More crucially is Ellie’s feeling she’s “not doing life right,” and Mozo traces a credible arc from balking at real interaction with loved ones to welcoming and embracing it.
Thornton is a boyish Jonas, the big-hearted stand-up comedian whose loving patience and keen intuition assist him in weathering Ellie’s emotional storms. Together, he and Mozo form a reverse-gender mirror image of Roberta and Joe, his journey from agnosticism to acceptance akin to Roberta’s.
Ellis’ lighthearted presence and adept comedic skill inform the Angel, whose various earthly guises include the now-adult son Roberta bore as a teen and who died in infancy.
Michael B. Raiford’s set design is chic and elegant in depicting Joe and Roberta’s home and Ellie’s apartment, and clinical but not cold in showing medical facilities.
The almost blinding lights of heaven are effected by Tom Ontiveros’ lighting scheme, and Vincent Oliveri’s sound design and original music are aptly ethereal – and, in fact, often movingly so.
Pointedly un-dogmatic, “Going to a Place” never preaches or urges belief of any sort – nor does it engender the feeling within us that we’ve had an out-of-body experience.
Instead, it directly, profoundly tells one woman’s story, and that’s far more intellectually and emotionally powerful than any amount of sermonizing.
Contact the writer: emarchesewriter@gmail.com
